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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860758">Elastic Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherheller/pseuds/justanotherheller'>justanotherheller</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTenaciousAngel/pseuds/TheTenaciousAngel'>TheTenaciousAngel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Closeted Castiel (Supernatural), Closeted Dean Winchester, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester Uses Actual Words, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Homophobia, Introvert Castiel (Supernatural), Lisa Braeden Being an Asshole, Lonely Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Minor Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Pining, Popular Dean Winchester, Telepathy, Underwear Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:41:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherheller/pseuds/justanotherheller, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTenaciousAngel/pseuds/TheTenaciousAngel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Castiel, made of feather soft royal blue Cashmere fabric, with a small 24 carat wing pinned to the waist band, is a boxer-brief of the Novak vintage collections and the most expensive of men's underwear in the world, designed by the great Chuck Shurley himself. He was the only one of his kind. As proud as an underwear like him could possibly feel, he is lonely. He lived for countless days, locked in a large room that has three of its walls as mirrors and one half of the fourth wall as a shelf full of different kinds of underwear behind glass, and the other half, a myterious closet. To make it worse, the underwears behind the glass had chosen to ignore his presence. This is not how he imagined his life would be like, whenever Chuck would marvel over him as he was being made.</p><p>Chuck had loved him and he could feel it. Or so he thought. Chuck was there with him in every step of his making and was so proud when his work, Castiel, was complete. Every other clothing he had ever met either envied him or praised him endlessly. All but underwears. They were too busy suffering the wrath of humans to even pay attention to Castiel. Every day Chuck would come in wearing one. They were not of low quality but none were as special as Castiel was. Over Chuck’s excited babbling over how Castiel was his best creation, he could hear the muffled groans of Chuck’s boxers and the soft whispers of his pants comforting them everyday. Worry tugged his being until one day one of Chuck’s pants noticed his concern.</p><p><i>If you worry yourself like that, you may start pilling,</i> he heard Chuck’s pants, and Castiel had no response to that piece of information. It was not untrue. It is not just regular use or rough washing that caused pilling of fabrics. Constant worry or unhappiness could do the job too.</p><p>
  <i>I’m Meg, by the way.</i>
</p><p>She didn’t seem very pleasant, but Castiel knew that it would be rude of him not to speak to her.</p><p>
  <i>I’m Castiel. It’s nice to meet you, Meg.</i>
</p><p><i>I know who you are, Clarence. Every piece of cloth Chuck owns does. And it’s nice to meet you too, but if you go on being like that, I don’t think you’d get to hear that for long,</i> she said blatantly.</p><p><i>What do you mean?</i> Castiel knew the answer to his question but it seemed like she had something more in mind.</p><p>
  <i>Pilling, dumbass. Were you even listening?</i>
</p><p>Her bluntness made him want to bunch up on the table top but there were humans  in the room.</p><p><i>If you’re wondering if you’ll have to press yourself into some guy’s ass like little Samandriel here, then don’t you worry, Clarence. You won’t be put up to do any of that.</i> She drawled.</p><p>
  <i>My name is Castiel. Not Clarence. He clarified.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Meh,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Samandriel. Is that what his name is?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Yeah. Poor kid doesn’t even complain anymore. I almost miss his mumbling.</i>
</p><p>Castiel couldn’t help but wonder how many times Samandriel must have been worn to accept his fate and not complain about it.</p><p><i>And you’re… sure that no one would wear me…?</i> Castiel hesitated. He had heard that, of all kinds of clothing in the world, underwears have the worst luck. Most of them weren’t cared for like the very few others, and were worn in the most horrendous of places on the human body.</p><p><i>Take a look at yourself, feathers. You’re clearly not like the others, and that little golden wing on your waistband? That’s a 24 carat proof that you’ll just end up on a mannequin in a super fancy closet and not hugging wieners,</i> she chuckled.</p><p><i>I’m not made of feathers.</i> Castiel sighed and Meg rolled her eyes.</p><p>Knowing that he wouldn’t have to be anywhere near human genitals was big news and Meg’s company was comforting despite her whammy vocabulary. Suddenly Chuck starts leaving the room and Castiel shouts goodbye to his new almost-friend.</p><p><i>Until next time, Meg,</i> he called out.</p><p>
  <i>Next time? Honey, you’re ready to go. Knowing that you won’t be worn may seem like a good thing now, but wait until you spend a couple of years on some…</i>
</p><p>Her voice trailed off as Chuck walked further down the hallways, away from Castiel’s room.</p><p>Castiel was too relieved to know that he won’t be worn, to pay attention to the last bit of what Meg said. Whatever it was, he decided that he would worry about it when he faces it.</p><p>Chuck kept him for a couple of more months and praised him everyday. He could feel how proud Chuck was of him and was always told that he had the brightest future of all underwears. Eventually, people started visiting him. Only very few of them were allowed to touch him and every eye that swept him was filled with awe.<br/>
The praising and longing looks were all flattering the first few times but he got weary of them not too soon after. The only good thing in his life now was Chuck. Which is why it hurt when one day, a very happy and contented Chuck, without any warning, handed him over to one Mr. Fergus Macleod, who preferred to be called Crowley. He felt hurt and betrayed. He had worshipped Chuck and loved him like a son would love his father. The satisfied sigh that escaped Chuck’s lips was the last Castiel heard from him.</p><p>Like Meg had said, Castiel was not worn once by anything living but only by a mannequin. And even though he had not had much contact with human skin, the cool and smooth surface of mannequin seemed definitely better than the sweaty porous, semi-permeable, living membrane he has heard of, that always shed flakes of their dead surface. Even a touch by a human fingertip leaves a certain amount of moisture and dead skin cells on him. Being worn around would be a nightmare. But fortunately, mannequins were nothing like such filth. Even though not being worn was a comfort to an extent, the loneliness he felt in the giant room was insufferable. None of the underwear on display behind the glass even acknowledged his presence, and the ones in the small closet weren’t audible at all.</p><p>Once in a while or so he’d hear hushed voices calling him too fancy or posh. No matter how hard he tried to initiate a conversation, they never talked to him. Eventually he understood that it was jealousy that made them talk of him that way. This deduction obviously did not make him feel any better and instead, he learned to cope with the quiet and absence of a fellow underwear, and he often wished to be in the closet rather than on display.</p><p>The only underwear that paid him any attention was Metatron. At first he found Metatron’s babbling endearing, until they never seemed to cease and became immoral by nature. Castiel tried drawing back but that only resulted in Metatron throwing insults at his way. He was very angrily compared to human fecal matter and genitals colloquially, but did not understand his intention behind doing so, until he realized how much underwears that are regularly worn hate those two particular things. He was deeply hurt at being verbally abused by the only company he had. What he couldn’t stand at all was how Metatron would call him “Asstiel”. He does not know how much time he had spent on the mannequin, wrapping himself tightly along its waist for comfort as Metatron belittled him without a break. Now over being called posh, he was also pitied by the underwears behind the glass, his only relief being Crowley’s sparse visits.</p><p>Crowley was no tyrant. He was just as gentle as Chuck and maybe even a little more passionate. The clothes he wore were civil and not wailing fabrics. His Armani suits were stiff and proud and due to good reason. His clothes were well taken care of, and never has he tugged on his suit with rough hands, even as he screamed at his clumsy and incompetent assistants with his face matching the color of the faded red bra on the top left corner of the shelf. Crowley only ever relaxes when he is all by himself in the large room and the faint smile that plays at his lips when he carefully wipes Castiel’s gold wing with a cloth as soft as his cashmere. As for Cas, it was the only balm to the wounds left behind by Metatrons verbal torture.</p><p>Being torn apart by Metatron and comforted by Crowley’s visits was his life for an unbearably long time. But eventually, all that screaming and sniggering stopped one day when the large room reverberated a loud snap. It was the most gut wrenching sound Castiel had ever heard and every underwear’s nightmare. Metatron’s time had come. Like what happens to all underwears over the course of time, Metatron’s elastic band had snapped, which to underwears meant death. A deafening silence befell the room as the once bright yellow Metatron turned pale with dread. It was only a matter of time until Crowley came in and tossed him away. As much as Castiel looked forward to the days without Metatron being there to annoy him, he secretly pitied the vintage yellow speedo. Both of them being of the Novak brand were in a way brothers and Castiel was oblivious to the concept of gloating. He kept his silence at Metatron’s mishap but rejoiced a little deep within nonetheless.</p><p>The day Metatron’s wailing self was taken away was when Castiel thought he had experienced true freedom, peace and joy, but the feeling was short-lived. Not too later, the familiar feeling of loneliness crept in and this time, instead of trying and epicly failing at earning the company of the underwears behind the glass, he resigned to the depressing solitude.</p><p>Castiel, stripped of all kinds of pain or emotion and taken over by numbness, was hit by a giant wave of hope as Crowley one day walked in, almost skipping with happiness, giggling ridiculously as he lovingly caressed a very expensive looking silver suitcase with a “W” engraved atop. He was soon followed by a wobbling man carrying a mannequin that resembled a female human body unlike the one Castiel was being worn by, who placed the mannequin a few feet apart from his own.</p><p>Crowley crammed a few good dollar bills into the hand of the scrawny man, which was something unusual. A happy and chipper Crowley was a rare sight and that only made Castiel more curious. All he could hear from within the suitcase were excited but muffled giggles. His elastic bands twitched in excitement as he realized that<br/>
there were not one but two underwears in the suitcase. One was a female and the other a male. A lingerie.</p><p>“Fergus, darling?” A stranger walked into the room and Crowley’s face twisted in a scowl.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to show your mother what you’ve got there?” she gave him a dashing smile. Even though she claimed to be his mother, she looked nothing like him. She was paler, had ginger hair, and was shorter than any other human Castiel had seen before.</p><p>Crowley breathed and let the irritation seep away and a small smile broke on his face. The woman raised her eyebrows as Crowley moved aside to show her his new treasure. After tracing the edges of it with a sparkle in his eyes, he opened it and the woman advanced with her hand held out.</p><p>“Ah ah ah,” he grabbed her by her wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”</p><p>He let her hand drop by her side and picked out a pair of rubber gloves from the pockets of his crisp suit, and wore them.</p><p>“This, dear mother, is the Winchester 67 Lingerie.” Crowley marveled, and the woman gasped.</p><p>“That’s right. This beauty right here, is the most expensive Lingerie on the market. And now it’s in my own hands”, he smiled to himself.</p><p>There was nothing Castiel could do to take a look at the said lingerie. Crowley’s frame was covering the view. He never found one even remotely attractive or even interesting. But he suspected Crowley’s excitement to be of good reason.</p><p>“Are those… are those diamonds?” the woman gaped at the new arrivals as she peered over Crowley’s shoulder.</p><p>“Yes 67 diamonds and a peridot.” Crowley said proudly and he held up the bra. Castiel’s excitement died down. It was too gaudy. It was a green bra studded with numerous diamonds and held together at the centre by a green stone, which from Crowley’s words Castiel understood, was a peridot… whatever that was. She beamed in Crowley’s hand as both him and his mother studied her.</p><p>“I understand why this is expensive but what about the thong here? It looks so… plain,” she frowned.</p><p>Crowley’s jaw dropped as he glared at her with disbelief.</p><p>“Are you kidding me? Plain? This here is the most beautiful lace work I have ever seen in my entire life and you call this plain? This thong as you’ve simply described as plain was designed and made by the very talented Mary Campbell herself. You will never find such intricate lace work on any piece of clothing on this entire damn planet”, he spat.</p><p>“Lisa may be full of sparkling stones, but Dean here is something else.” Castiel saw his shoulders relax. “This is pure art. The stones may seem precious to your eyes, mother. But this here is the epitome of beauty.” Crowley sighed in contentment and lifted the thong.</p><p>The warm yellow light of the room fell on the green laced fabric and Castiel went stiff. He could have sworn that if he had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. Crowley’s words did no justice to the beauty of the thong. The lacework on him was brilliant and was splayed with tiny blotches of green, two shades darker than the original color. Those, Castiel assumed, are what humans would call freckles. And yes, they added to his beauty. He was the single most beautiful piece of clothing he had ever seen, and for the first time in his existence, he felt desire. He was too entranced by all the green to curb the desire emanating from him. A wave of resentment from Lisa was what brought him back to his senses. Worried that he might have offended Dean, he dared a peak at him only to find him blushing a darker shade of green, imperceptible by humans.</p><p>By the time the little staring event was over, Crowley had driven his mother out of the room. The look of peacefulness took over his face again as he gently dressed the mannequin with the lingerie. As he saw both Lisa and Dean together on the mannequin, he realized that they had come as a pair. Which meant that they were made for each other. With that realization, he subdued any hope of even dreaming of Dean’s proximity.</p><p>Once Crowley was done with prepping the mannequin, he turned to Castiel and gently brushed his sides with a soft cloth and hurried out.</p><p><i>Hey there, angel!</i> Dean caught Castiel’s attention. The depth in his voice might have caught him off guard, but as odd as it may seem, it fit his looks.</p><p><i>I’m Dean. Winchester.</i> He beamed. The warmth he radiated comforted Castiel and he relaxed into the feeling.</p><p><i>Hello, Dean. I am Castiel. A Novak. And I’m no angel.</i> Castiel was impressed by how calm and collected he was while conversing with Dean. Stammering and stuttering is what he had expected to come out.</p><p><i>Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, huh? Anyway your little wing says otherwise.</i> Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his little gold wing.</p><p>Suddenly, he was hit by a ray of anger and warning from Lisa, and Castiel made no effort to continue his conversation with Dean. Dean was a little confused at first but he had known Lisa long enough to understand that she had probably asked Castiel to back off in the most subtle yet effective way possible. A little persuasion from his side finally broke her ice a little bit and she introduced herself to Castiel. Even in her sweet voice was a tang of hostility that Castiel was way too familiar with. He took the message and kept to himself despite Dean’s occasional tries, every few hours, to get him to talk.</p><p><i>How do you do this, man?</i> Dean groaned as he tried to distract himself from the bras' yammering, including Lisa's.</p><p><i>Do what?</i> Castiel spoke softly trying not to distract Lisa from her heated conversation with the other bras.</p><p>
  <i>Listening to all of this. Not talking to anyone. Don’t you just get tired of being quiet?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I am not silent by choice. None of the others consider conversing with me worth their time.<i> All Castiel felt in return of this response was confusion, so he went on. <i>They find me intimidating due to my value on the market. I may have tried making friends here but I lack the skill set.</i></i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p><p><i>Skill set? The hell are you talking about?</i> Dean’s tone stirred up a few memories. This was the tone Metatron had used in his earlier days of torture</p><p><i>Hey, I’m not judging you or anything. Just trying to get to know you.</i> Dean put it out there, seeing how his words had made him wince.</p><p><i>Thank you for trying but I think I’m fine with my own company, besides Lisa seems to be uncomfortable with me having your attention.</i> Castiel did not know why he put it out there. Okay, maybe he did. He may have been a little scared of being hurt if he lets Dean in, even as just a friend, and a teensy bit jealous of Lisa too.</p><p><i>Um… Yeah, okay. Whatever.</i> Dean’s attention quickly jumped to the bras eyeing him and he flirted left and right with them ignoring Lisa’s forced laughs and hushed awkward pleas to stop. The usual warmth that radiated from Dean was diminished now. Maybe Castiel shouldn’t have acted that cold.</p><p>But Dean never stopped trying to get words out of him and Castiel wishes he could comply. Dean was so kind to him and he could feel that it wasn’t just friendship that drew them together. Dean would often watch him intently. Castiel had noticed but he never let him know. The one time he returned Dean’s attention, expecting him to act as if he wasn’t watching Castiel, all he faced was a confident thong who gave him the warmest look, full of longing, that could have melted his elastic band. Castiel wanted to return the look but Lisa was the problem.</p><p>Her presence was highly unsettling. Dean, being oblivious to Lisa constantly warning Castiel to back off, was always left confused and hurt when Castiel would shut him out completely. Castiel was not scared of her. He simply wanted to avoid conflict, and he saw no point in establishing his dominance in the room, even though he knew well enough that he could. He can have anything he wants. He can have Dean. It's just a matter of trying. But he chose peace over such luxuries. Also Dean and Lisa got along so well. As someone who has never had such a friend before, he knew the value of such friendship. A happy Dean is what makes him happy too, and so he laid low.</p><p>Dean’s frequent failed attempts at befriending Castiel kept going. Because Dean saw that Castiel wanted to talk to him only when Lisa was distracted. But it took him a tad too long to see that he was only one Cas even tried to speak to. Dean wanted to shut her up real bad, but if he tries, he knows that he’ll have to face the bitch Lisa turns into when someone does something she doesn’t like, and she’d never stop complaining about it.</p><p><i>But was Cas worth all of that?</i> He wondered often. Also, he was a thong. Thongs were supposed to be with bras. Not boxer-briefs. Even if he was of the most alluring shade of blue he had ever seen. Even if he looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world and the only thing that mattered to him, and not just throw nasty lustful comments his way about his laces. Cas was also the only underwear to have ever admired his freckles.</p><p>The more Dean tried to convince himself that thongs can’t be with boxer-briefs and that Cas was not worth pissing off Lisa, he only came to realize that no one makes him feel special and beautiful more than Cas does. Other underwears would only praise Lisa and her stuck up diamonds and peridot and only question why Dean never had any. But Cas only had eyes for Dean and he wanted it to be the same for Cas.</p><p><i>Hey, Cas.</i> Dean called out to him and he tightened around the male mannequin. Yes, Lisa was watching. But he couldn’t give a damn. He had Castiel’s attention immediately but it snapped away as he saw that Lisa was not occupied.</p><p><i>Don’t mind her. We can talk whenever the fuck we want.</i> Dean was nervous as shit but enough was enough. He can’t keep on telling a damn bra how pretty she was when he could be smothered with sincere love by the most handsome boxer-brief ever made. Fuck bras. He needed this bad boy.</p><p><i>Dean! You don’t have to be so rude,</i> She giggled wryly. <i>Of course you guys can talk whenever you want to. I don’t mind anything about it at all.</i> Castiel could feel the fakeness of her encouragement as she spoke. His bands twitched in anger that only Dean caught.</p><p><i>Yeah? Cool. ‘Cause you know, I like the dude. Like “like” him.</i> Silence fell over the room, and  a moment later a quiet chattering broke out.</p><p><i>I’m fucking done with bras, man. Anything you can do about that?</i> He tried his best not to giggle as Cas struggled to find words. Now he was sure that Cas wanted him the same way he did. And that was all that mattered.</p><p>Dean and Lisa weren’t even a thing. He may have liked her at first but she was selfish. The only reason they were together is because Mary’s husband, John Winchester, decided they should be. And it’s not like Lisa ever saw him as anything more than a nice piece of lace. So wanting to be with Cas was not him cheating on Lisa. It was him wanting something for himself, which was the first.</p><p><i>Dean? What the hell are you talking about? Thongs can’t be with briefs! You’re mine.</i> She huffed possessively.</p><p><i>Lis, calm down for a second and listen to me carefully, alright?</i> Dean said calmly and she stopped making confused angry noises and gave him her full attention, taking a break from glaring holes through Castel.</p><p><i>I… am so damn tired of you,</i> He started and every underwear in the room started whispering to each other vigorously.</p><p><i>Everybody, shut the fuck up!</i> He bellowed and they listened. Lisa was shaking with anger and embarrassment as she stared down at Dean.</p><p>
  <i>You only care about yourself and your little… whatever that green shiny thing is -</i>
</p><p><i>That’s my peridot, Dean. Our peridot!</i>  She cut him off.</p><p><i>Look, it’s pretty and all, but…</i> He paused for a moment measuring his words carefully. <i>You’re just not good for me-</i></p><p><i>What is that supposed to mean?</i> She asked in an offended tone.</p><p><i>Why don’t you let me talk first, huh?</i> Castiel was surprised at how Dean could keep his cool. If it were him, he would have lost it so much sooner.</p><p>
  <i>You only care about yourself. You say you love me but all you do is -</i>
</p><p><i>Of course I do, what are you-</i> she cut him off again and this time Dean lost it.</p><p><i>Fucking shut up, and listen first!</i> He snapped but kept his voice in check.</p><p><i>You know what? You already know how you’ve been playing me all this time, and if you still think that there’s something real between us, then you’re friggin’ nuts.</i> He spat.</p><p>
  <i>What the hell, I don’t need to explain myself to you for wanting to be with him. He huffed. And he is so much more than who you are. Hell, he is everything you aren’t.</i>
</p><p>Dean’s attention flickered to Cas. Lisa’s disappointed and worried noises went unaddressed as Dean drank in how Cas just went a couple of shades darker. As much as he enjoyed watching him getting flustered, bearing with her was becoming harder by every passing minute. She was going to throw a temper tantrum soon enough, and both Dean and Castiel grew worried of how much the situation could escalate.</p><p>Before anything at all could happen, Crowley walks in with a slender woman at his heels.</p><p>“And this, Miss Talbot, is my heart and soul. My most treasured collection.” Crowley boasted and the woman tried hard not to show the amusement on her face.</p><p>She scanned the whole room, but her eyes would occasionally flick towards Lisa and then Castiel. Lisa was fuming with rage to notice this but Dean and Cas were starting to get uncomfortable at the woman’s calculating glances. They shared worried looks as the woman’s fingers hovered above Castiel’s gold pin, but she carefully drew them back as Crowley turned to talk to her.</p><p>“Impressed, darling?” he asked.</p><p>“Mildly. But getting ahold of the best of  Winchester’s Secret and Novak,” she trailed off as she moved closer to Lisa and studied her. “Can’t help but admit that you’ve got impeccable taste.” She smirked at Crowley and he returned it.</p><p>“Take a good look around. And please, keep your hands to yourself. I’ll be back in a few.” Crowley turned on his heels and walked out.</p><p>Just as he left the room, the woman went tense. Her face fell into a sharp focus as she hurriedly but very elegantly slipped a screaming Lisa off the mannequin and carefully placed her in the huge leather handbag she was carrying. Dean held his breath and Cas panicked as her eyes lingered on Dean. She ran her finger along his laces but then balled her fist and hissed a curse. She stood upright and turned away from him and they both relaxed. But the relief left their weavings as the woman laid her hand on Castiel.</p><p>Dean started panicking and tried yelling out to her to back off, but humans can’t hear fabrics. She tried getting Castiel off the mannequin but she realized that she’d have to lift it to take him off, so he shimmied him back up and slid out his gold wing pin instead and went back to being her elegant self. She sauntered out the room, leaving behind a hyperventilating thong and a messed up boxer brief.</p><p>Dean rambled worriedly as Cas tried to shake off the unfamiliar feeling of being crumpled. He was so desperate to get Cas some help that he once again in vain tried calling out for human help. He yelled for Crowley until his voice gave away.</p><p>Not too soon after, a royally pissed off Crowley storms in and over to Dean. After spending moments staring at him with a blank face, he then turns to Cas and hurried over to him to smoothen him out. Cas rested wrapped around the mannequin’s waist drained of energy, sucking in all the air he can after being suffocated by his own fabric.</p><p>“That cunning skank!” Crowley bellowed after pacing the room for some time and tiredly peering at Dean’s mannequin. Muttering under his breath he once again vacated the room.</p><p>The only sound left in the room was Castiel’s loud gasps for air. Impatient, Dean silently waited for Cas to gather himself.</p><p><i>Cas? You alright, buddy?</i> Dean asked softly as Cas’ breathing steadied.</p><p><i>Yes… I think. But I… </i>he trailed off as he sensed something was off. Dread settled over him as he felt something really important on him missing.</p><p>
  <i>Cas, take it easy. What’s wrong?</i>
</p><p>He hadn’t known he had started to panic until he heard Dean. As he saw that he had Dean’s complete attention, insecurity replaced his dread.</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>Talk to me, Cas. Did she hurt you?</i>
</p><p>If Dean had not yet noticed that his wing was missing, he would soon and all this worry and concern will be no more, because now he was just plain cloth. Dean was definitely going to ignore him now. If before he had no reason to do so, now he does. Cas is almost worthless now. Worthless and plain. Dean was so special and he was nothing before him. He did not want to bring embarrassment to Dean by being with him.</p><p>All of this is what Castiel told himself, until he finally admitted that being neglected was what he was truly scared of. Being neglected by the only underwear that ever mattered to him.</p><p><i>I’m fine.</i> He mumbled coldly.</p><p><i>Lisa’s gone… you know?</i> Dean blurted out, trying to curb his enthusiasm and hoping to see Cas blush, but he didn’t.</p><p><i>So?</i> Castiel wanted to sound cold and distant. But what came out was a broken word. His voice lost, like his wing.</p><p>
<i>Cas, if I’m gonna be rejected by a boxer-brief after taking the risk of pissing off the craziest bra ever made for the said guy, over a fucking shiny thing, I’m gonna come over and rip you apart. Don’t ask me how.</i> Dean sighed, and Castiel stared at him blankly.</p><p><i>I mean… I’m sorry if it really meant something to you. I know that you were really proud of that thing. What I meant was that, if losing it is why you’re pushing me away this time, then it’s fucking stupid, man. </i>He mumbled tiredly. All the screaming had worn him out.</p><p><i>So you’re saying that you never cared about my gold pin…</i> Castiel wondered out loud.</p><p><i>No! I didn’t mean it that way. Of course, I cared about it. I kinda loved it. I loved all of… it. But that pin’s got nothing to do with how I uh… with me liking you.</i> He gulped as he searched for different words. Can’t let the other know that he’s going soft now, can he?</p><p><i>Oh! Good, then.</i> Castiel was confused. Dean liked him. Sure. Why though?</p><p><i>What, Cas? There were friggin’ diamonds but you went for laces, man. I can see past shiny stuff too, you know? Hell, I know that it isn’t even about the laces. You like me for real and I know that ‘cause I can see it. And you gotta know that you’re not just a Novak with a precious wing. You’re Cas and that’s what I like too. And I’m pretty sure I was never subtle about it.</i> Dean felt a lot lighter now that he had let it all out. Not all but almost.</p><p><i>I see that now.</i> Castiel beamed at him and Dean huffed out a relieved laugh.</p><p><i>I’m glad you do.</i> They spent a few moments in comfortable silence.</p><p>Crowley did not return for a long time. But now that Castiel had Dean, it did not bother him much. In fact, it was a relief. Dean was painfully chipper and happier than ever, just as he was oblivious to the fact that Cas’ wing and Lisa being gone changes things about them being on display, and Crowley returning would bring further changes.</p><p>Will Dean go behind the glass and Cas end up in the closet, or will it be the other way around? Will Lisa be replaced by an honest to God good natured bra that could charm Dean away from him? Will Castiel remain on the mannequin and Dean be taken away? All of these questions haunted Castiel, and popped in his mind every time Dean’s happiness showed. And as a cherry on top, was the five feet of distance between them.</p><p>Listening to Dean talk about how Mary used to listen to a certain musical band named Led Zeppelin, about his best friend Charlie, a bright red bra that like themselves liked the ones of her own kind, and other stories. This was Castiel’s new hobby and he loved it. He spent hours listening to Dean talk about his time before Crowley happened. He was fascinated by the wonders of the outside world. When he was with Chuck, all he did was sit in his room, that had a potted plant and a window facing nothing but the sky. But Dean talked about cars, movies, music, food and so much more. Dean was his window to the world in every way he could imagine. Every way but one - touch.</p><p>He had never been in contact with another fabric in his life. He wanted to feel the laces that defined his fabric and have him closer to him than anything else has been, now more than ever. Dean’s small hopeless sighs after their regular meaningful stares put them both out as they get lost in the thought of how they were lucky for having each other in every way but unfortunately not lucky enough to be in each other’s proximity.The sighs became sad glances and eventually birthed a mournful silence between them. The ecstatic laughs became forced and with time, broken. But they had each other for the time being, and that’s all they had. For the first time in their lives, they were seen and heard the way they’ve always wanted to be, but it wasn’t enough anymore.</p><p>Then one day, out of the damn blue, walks in a super excited Crowley, with two suitcases. Oddly enough, his demeanor matched that of the day he brought in Dean and Lisa and woke the curiosity in Castiel once again. From where he was, all he could see was one of them was silver and the other was golden. His gaze fell on Dean as he heard a panicked noise from him.</p><p><i>Dean, are you okay?</i> He inquired.</p><p><i>It's Winchester’s Secret and Novak!</i> Dean hissed a loud whisper like he was trying not to get Crowley’s attention.</p><p><i>Oh!</i> The suitcases belonged to their respective brands. They were going to be taken back to Chuck and Mary. Instead of panicking, Castiel quickly went into accepting the fact that this is where they part ways.</p><p><i>Cas, say something man. Tell me they’re not taking us home.</i> Dean pleaded but Castiel ignored him. He was choosing silence over heartfelt goodbyes. At least it would hurt a lot less.</p><p>
  <i>Don’t you go silent on me, you ass. Fucking say something. Cas, please-</i>
</p><p>“I’m sorry, boys” Crowley’s voice interrupted. “You both were my most treasured pieces of art. You still are, and always will be. But I can’t keep you on display anymore.” Crowley’s mother was present in the room and she rolled her eyes at his monologue.</p><p>Dean fell silent and it tore Castiel apart but he still chose not to speak.</p><p>“But that does not mean I’m throwing you away either. I may have come across much more expensive ones of your kind and bought them, but what can I say? Sentimentality got the better of me,” he rocked on the balls of his feet as he sighed.</p><p>Castiel and Dean exchanged a hopeful glance as Crowley stood in silence. Crowley was not throwing them away. But they cannot be kept behind the glass, because they were both incomplete. This would only mean that they were going into the closet, which they both had no idea what was like. But they knew that as long as they had each other, they’d be fine. The hopefulness in Castiel faltered a little when Crowley carefully took Dean off his mannequin. He folded him in his hands, holding him as gently as a mother would hold her child, and moved to the closet Castiel has been eyeing forever.</p><p><i>See you on the other side, Cas.</i> Dean called out softly sounding more confident than ever.</p><p>Castiel could not put a pin on what he was feeling at the moment. He felt love, contentment, hope, and so much more all at once. It was so overwhelming that he did not notice Crowley was taking him off until he was halfway down the mannequin. He too was folded with utmost gentleness as Dean was. He felt immeasurable gratitude towards this angry little man for bringing them together and mumbled a thanks, inaudible to him as Crowley looked down at him with an affectionate smile.</p><p>Castiel hears the door of the closet swinging open and the next he knows, he is placed on top of laces. The door closes behind them and a sweet voice greets him</p><p><i>Hiya, angel!</i> The light yellow bra nudges him. Forget Dean, this bra was the perkiest underwear he had ever seen. <i>Nice to meetcha! I’m Donna and this is Jody. You must be Cas.</i></p><p><i>Uhm… yes, I am. Thank you, it’s nice to meet you too.</i> Castiel managed to respond as literally all the underwear in the closet beamed at him. He had never encountered such warmth and for the first time,  he felt welcome.</p><p><i>Someone here, couldn’t wait for you to come in.</i> Jody chuckles and so does Castiel but softly as he felt the laces press up to him.</p><p><i>Aww! Jody, would you look at them! They’re so-</i> Donna started but was cut of by Jody.</p><p><i>Why don’t we give them some alone time, huh?</i> Donna shrugged apologetically and moved to a group of bras at the corner of the drawer.</p><p><i>Welcome to the closet, boys.</i> Jody flashed them a grin and joined Donna with the other bras.</p><p><i>Hey,</i> Castiel heard him softly whisper into his blue fabric.</p><p><i>Hello, Dean.</i> Castiel mumbled as he fondly studied the freckles splayed all over Dean’s fabric and memorized the pattern of his laces, mesmerized by how close they were. He had never been this close to anyone before and being so close with Dean rendered him ecstatic. He felt complete. He was home.</p><p><i>It’s a bit damp and musty in here, don’t you think? We’re gonna rot in here.</i> Dean whispered nervously.</p><p><i>As long as I have you with me, that wouldn't be a problem. We will get through it together.</i> Cas whispered back.</p><p>
  <i>Yeah, dude. I mean, it’s all good but we’ll… Our bands will crumble and we’ll kind of die in here.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Then we’ll do that together too.</i>
</p><p><i>So what, I’m Thelma and you’re Louise, and we’re just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?</i> Dean was met with silence.</p><p><i>I don’t understand that reference.</i> Castiel finally responded and Dean laughed heartily.</p><p>
  <i>Of course you don’t.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I love you.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love you too, Cas</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you don't know what jockstraps are, DO NOT GOOGLE IT!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s your chance to shine, boys,” Crowley said with much less enthusiasm than when he had brought in Castiel or Dean, as he took a last look at the two male mannequins, one donning a black and white plaid boxer, and the other, a chocolate brown pearl studded jockstrap. Crowley was not too pleased with the new pieces on display, but these were the most expensive and those always go on the mannequins. Even if he has other favorites.</p><p>With quick strides he left the room and the boxer and jockstrap stared blankly at each other.</p><p><i>Hi, I’m Sam. Nice to meet you.</i> The boxer said warmly.</p><p><i>Quite the voice you got there, sugarbutt!</i> The jockstrap snapped flirtatiously.</p><p><i>W-What?</i> Out of the hundreds of underwears Sam had met before, this one was different. He just couldn’t decide if he was good different or bad different.</p><p><i>You can call me Gabriel by the way. Or Sugar Daddy. Whichever gets your band tingling.</i> Gabriel smirked.</p><p><i>I’ll- stick with Gabriel, thanks.</i> Sam huffed an awkward laugh.</p><p><i>Oh, don’t be so boring, sweetums. We’re gonna be stuck on this thing for sometime so let's keep it snappy. Bring out the animal inside of you. Come on, Sammykins! </i>Gabriel cheered.</p><p>Sam stared back at him in disbelief and a sliver of disgust but got his act together.</p><p><i>Could you maybe… you know…</i> he fumbled awkwardly.</p><p>
  <i>Spit it out, Samantha.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t know… keep off the nicknames and- tone down the flirting maybe?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Aw, hell no! Gabriel sang. I can flirt with you all I want, ‘cause baby? We’re married.</i>
</p><p><i>What is that?</i> Sam did not try hiding his agitation this time.</p><p><i>Hell if I know.</i> Gabriel replied dismissively. <i>It’s something humans do. It’s romaaantiic.</i> Gabriel drawled and Sam scowled.</p><p><i>Okay, whatever that is, we’re not it.</i> Sam clarified.</p><p>
  <i>Yep, we are. We sooo are.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No, Gabriel. Stop it.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No I won’t. ‘Cause we’re married.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And why on earth would we be?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Because I said so!!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t think that’s how it works.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Yes it is.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No it’s not.<i></i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i></i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>We’re soo married.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No. We’re not!</i>
</p><p> <i>Look at us, bickering like an old married couple.</i></p><p><i>OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FUCKING STOP!</i> Sam yelled.</p><p><i>Cas!</i> Dean gasped and Castiel hummed in response.</p><p><i>Did you hear that?</i> He couldn’t keep his excitement in.</p><p><i>Well, yes. They are pretty loud.</i> Castiel pointed out.</p><p><i>Damn it! You don’t get it, Cas. It’s not- I can’t fucking believe this.</i> Dean then started chuckling hysterically and all it did to Castiel was leave him baffled.</p><p><i>That guy who just shouted out there. It’s Sammy, Cas. Sammy, from back home.</i> Dean himself was surprised that he wasn’t squealing. Of everything that could happen, he never thought he’d get to meet his brother again.</p><p><i>Sammy, as in Sam? Your brother?</i> Castiel asked and Dean breathed out an excited yes.</p><p><i>I can’t wait to meet him.</i> Castiel said with genuine excitement and warmth as he wrapped himself around Dean tightly and Dean did the same.</p><p>He found love, his brother, happiness, and peace in one place. He got everything he didn’t think he deserved. What else could Dean Winchester possibly want.</p>
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